


Shared Shards

by CrashStack



Series: Fics for Rainb0we! [8]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Angst, Banister/Bonnie, Family, Family Feels, Frazier/Withered Foxy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rainb0we's AU, Trauma, Wade/Withered Bonnie, Withered Foxy (Rainb0we)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrashStack/pseuds/CrashStack
Summary: A broken cup is a broken cup. Frazier's still getting used to that, he's not prepared to be showing Banister that's the case.
Relationships: Withered Foxy/Withered Freddy (Five Nights at Freddy's)
Series: Fics for Rainb0we! [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1526105
Kudos: 20





	Shared Shards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainb0we](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainb0we/gifts).



> Me: "Banister and Frazier fluff."
> 
> B0we: "WHAT-"

_His hands were bleeding._

_“You break my stuff, you clean it up.”_

_Shards of porcelain were lodged in his skin. She had shoved him down so hard, he had tried to brace himself for the impact and got hurt for it. How stupid._

_“Ugh, I’ll get a drink myself.”_

_The pale pieces of the cup were coated in a glossy red. His knees hurt, they felt cold against the floor despite the red pool growing bigger with each passing second._

_“You’re making such a mess. I can’t believe you, you screw up the simplest things.”_

_His hair was grabbed and pulled. The sting rang with the burn in his hands._

_“You’re lucky I’m here to fix you.”_

Frazier bolted upright at the faint crash that slipped through the haze with a choked whine.

_“Easy there.”_ Foxy’s presence wrapped gently around his collarbone like a hug. _“Ye alrigh’?”_

He felt like he was freezing and boiling at the same time. He felt sick, vulnerable to the air of the room. If he had his hook on it would be lodged in the mattress, his free hand clutching the sheets like he’d float away without them holding him down. The room was almost completely dark, the only light coming from the dim sky that reached between the curtains and his eye.

“Fine,” he rasped, a quiet whistle. He swallowed. “Did ye hear tha’?”

_“Yeah. I can check i’ ou’, ye look li’e ye need a minute ta breathe.”_

The shift on the bed had him jolting. Wade. He jerked his head over, tail curling around his waist in a pitiful attempt to seem smaller. He knew Wade wouldn’t be mad, but…

Wade was asleep, dead to the world and on his back like a content turtle. His snoring was rumbling and loud. He looked so peaceful, but so tired and worn. His palm was settled on his chest, the other just inches away from Frazier’s, loosely curled like he had been holding onto the bare metal. The fox held in a relieved sigh. Wade needed sleep, Frazier would never forgive himself if he woke the insomniac up from one of his rare nights.

_“Need to move anyway.”_

_“If ye’re sure.”_

Frazier slipped out of bed. His bare feet lightly clanked against the floorboards. He hoped Gordon was wearing the headphones, he knew the old bear could hear just about anything without them on. From the lack of low mumbling and the tapping of a cane, Gordon apparently hadn’t woken at the shattering sound.

_“Ye thin’ someone broke in?”_

_“I don’t know.”_ He grabbed his hook from the nightstand and screwed it on slowly. Wade always made sure it was oiled, but a squeak made it out every once in a while. _“We’ll have to see.”_

He crept out of the room, leaving the door ajar. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but if Wade was asleep then there was a good chance everyone else was. All the doors but his and Wade’s were shut, the only sound slipping under them soft snoring. The younger batch were staying the night, filling some of the usually spare, empty rooms. It wasn’t uncommon for them to want their own rooms, though Chica had the look of heartbreak on her face; it hadn’t been as splitting as Wade’s.

The snoring that came from Faust, Finnian, and Banister’s room almost had Frazier sighing.

_“I’ scares me knowin’ she’s jus’ a wee lass with her da’s snore.”_

_“She_ _scares me.”_

_“Good poin’.”_

The front door was shut, Frazier could see the lock in place. The screen door to the backyard certainly would have woken someone up before the crashing sound, and all the windows were locked. As much as Frazier grumbled about being alone while Wade did his rounds, he made sure the house was secure and that they were safe.

Quiet sniffling was coming from the kitchen.

Frazier peered around the corner. “Aye?”

A cup was shattered on the floor, shards of glass sparkling in the dim room. Banister stood among the mess, staring down at the debris with wide, fearful eyes. His fingers were digging into his sleeves and his ears were folded down so tightly that they seemed close to snapping, his chest puttering like a broken motor.

“Banis’er?”

The rabbit’s head jerked to him. The mismatched eyes were terrified, the right a distorted static. “I-I didn’t mean to,” Banister stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

Frazier’s stomach twisted.

“I-it was an a-accident, I swear!” The rabbit was shaking so hard it looked like he’d fall apart. “I just wanted some water!”

His voice was stuck in his throat. This was all too familiar.

The silence only seemed to spur Banister’s panic. “I-I-I’ll clean it up, don’t worry!” His knees gave out and he hit the floor with a hard thud. “I’m s-sorry, sir!”

The shudder that took Frazier was violent. He was quick in getting over to Banister, dropping into a crouch next to the small rabbit’s side. “Hey, hey,” he said softly, though his voice caught. “Leave i’, e’re goin’ ta cut yerself.”

“I-I broke it,” Banister whispered. He reached for the glass. “I need to clean it up.”

He intercepted a hand, grasping Banister by the wrist. The rabbit stiffened. “Thin’s break,” Frazier told him. “I’ll get i’ later.”

Banister tried to tug his hand from the pirate’s grip. “But someone could step on it and then I’ll get in even more trouble because I didn’t clean it up and someone got hurt-!”

The grizzled fox tried to look comforting despite the pinching illness in his chest. “Banis’er, ye’re no’ in trouble.”

Banister looked at him like he was on fire. “I broke it!” he insisted. His voice cracked, tears pooling in his eyes. “I messed up!”

_“Poor thin’s goin’ ta shake apar’ at this ra’e.”_

“Le’s go sit in the livin’ room, alrigh’?” He had a feeling Banister didn’t want to wake everyone going up the stairs with his panic. “Don’ worry abou’ i’.”

Banister just stared, shaking.

Frazier slowly stood up, gently pulling the smaller to his feet. “Come on now,” he said softly, guiding the bare feet around the mess. “Watch yer step.”

It wasn’t too hard in pulling Banister away from the mess, Frazier’s firm grip keeping him from turning and going back to it. He did, however, have to use a little pressure to get Banister to sit on the couch. The rabbit sat with a small sound, shoulders and head hunched in a way that made him look even smaller than he already was. Compared to Frazier, he was already a little thing, and the posture only had the grizzled pirate biting his lip at the painful reminder of the things he did to protect himself and give himself comfort.

_He’s just a child._

Frazier sat down on the far end of the couch, leaning against the arm. Banister was watching him, ears back and hands tightly clasped.

Quiet.

“Do ye wan’ ta talk abou’ i’?” Frazier asked after a moment.

The rabbit jolted, ears perking. There was a long pause, Banister opening his mouth. His jaw snapped shut almost immediately, ears folding down tightly, and he shook his head firmly.

“Tha’s alrigh’, I get i’.” The grizzled fox sat back against the couch. “I know wha’ i’s li’e ta be in tha’ situation.”

The mismatched eyes stared. The long ears perked, twitched.

“I don’ wan’ ta talk abou’ i’, but…” The honey eye dimmed. “I know wha’ ye’re feelin’.”

“…Was it more than yelling?” Banister asked quietly.

“I don’ wan ta talk abou’ i’,” Frazier repeated, an edge lacing around his voice. His eye burned a steady brightness.

Banister’s ears drooped. “I’m sorry, sir,” he whispered, turning his eyes back to his lap.

“No.” It was a quiet, firm bark. Banister flinched. Frazier’s expression softened again. “No callin’ me that, alrigh’?

Banister gave a curt nod. He was grimacing, shifting.

“…Is touchin’ allowed?”

The raspberry eye peeked up from his hands. “Huh?”

“Hugs? Pettin’?” Frazier was watching him carefully. “Touch alrigh’ or no when ye’re no’ feelin’ well?”

Banister eyed him. “Touch is fine,” he responded, hushed.

“Okay.” The grizzled pirate leaned back against the couch, lifting his arm. “Come ‘ere.”

A sputter. “Excuse me?!”

“I’s a hug, idio’, I’m no’ tryin’ ta ea’ ye. I’m no’ tha’ feral.”

_“Bu’ I am! Le’ me ‘old the wee lad!”_

The mismatched eyes stared at him. The tension in the short distance didn’t snap, but slowly folded. Banister scooted close to him at a slow pace, eyes darting over Frazier. The grizzled fox just smiled as warmly as he could with his fangs, staying still.

_“‘e’s a flighty one, eh?”_

_“He’s nervous, give him some slack.”_

Banister settled against him, temple against the strong shoulder.

“Ye can pet me if ye wan’,” the grizzled fox said. “I’s alrigh’”

A hesitant lift of the hand. Banister slowly planted it in the crimson fur. He blinked owlishly.

“Yeah, I’m a lo’ sof’er than I look,” Frazier chuckled. He brought his arm down around Banister’s shoulders, careful of his hook. “See? I don’ bite.”

“But you do.” It was weak and distracted, the smaller palm kneading the fox’s fur.

“Aye, jus’ depends on who’s in charge.” A pause. “Can’ really help meself with Foxy’s head.”

_“Don’ pin the bitin’ on me!”_

Banister winced when a hand came down on his head. “Hey…”

“Easy.” Frazier ran his fingers through the soft fur. “I’s alrigh’,” he murmured.

There was a long moment of quiet. The sound of bare metal brushing over silky fur was nearly silent.

“I’s okay, Bani’ser.” His rough voice was a low rumble. “I’s jus’ a cup.”

A sniffle. “I-I…”

“I’ was jus’ an accident,” Frazier went on.

The smaller turned into Frazier’s shoulder, shaking. “M-my d-d-dad… M-mom…”

“Aren’ goin’ ta do anythin’ ta ye.” Frazier’s tail curled around the thin waist. “I’m ‘ere.”

“P-papa,” Banister sniffled. A pitiful hiccup escaped him. “Papa-a…”

He jolted. It was like a punch to the face, but it didn’t hurt like that. Warmth bloomed and spread across his chest. His eye faintly stung.

_“My laddie!”_

_“Our_ _laddie!”_

_“Our laddie!”_

The pause had Banister crying harder.

“Shh.” Frazier curled around him, settling his cheek against the smaller’s temple. “Ye’re alrigh’, bunny, i’s alrigh’.”

“I-I didn’t mean to!” he cried. He clutched the crimson fur. “I-I-I’m s-sorry.”

“Ye didn’ do anythin’ wron’,” the grizzled fox whispered. He nuzzled the rabbit. “Nothin’ ta be sorry fer.”

The shaking suddenly grew worse. “W-Wade,” Banister choked. He gripped his sleeves. “H-h-he’s going to be mad.”

“He won’ be mad,” Frazier said calmly. _No’ if I ‘ave anythin’ ta say abou’ i’._ “Promise.”

They sat there for a while, Frazier murmuring gentle words and stroking the mauve fur. Banister’s trembling never really went away, but it calmed into a faint quiver. He clung to Frazier like a small kitten, sniffling like one left in the rain. The light filtered through the curtains slowly, birds tweeting as the sun rose and cars rumbling down the street. Despite the time spent up, Frazier didn’t feel tired at all.

There was a low rolling across the floorboards upstairs. “Darlin’, where are you?”

Banister took in a sharp breath.

Of course Wade woke up early. With how much sleep he had gotten, no wonder. Frazier patted his back. “I’ve go’ ye.” He looked back over the couch. “Livin’ room!” he called. He wasn’t too caring about waking up anyone else. Barkley was near the end of the hall and slept deeply, he’d be fine.

The grip on the crimson fur felt strong enough to rip it off. “Don’t let him yell at me, papa.”

He didn’t hesitate. “‘e’s no’ goin’ ta do anythin’ ta ye.”

Wade was rubbing his eye when he came down the stairs. His clothes were rumpled and sagging. “Mornin’, moonshine,” he yawned. “What’s got you downstairs and not in bed?”

“Bi’ o’ an acciden’ las’ nigh’,” Frazier said. He rubbed Banister’s back rhythmically.

The mismatched eyes settled on Frazier’s shoulder, widening. “Banister?”

The rabbit shifted in Frazier’s grip. He was staring holes into the floor.

His face smoothed into a concerned frown. “What happened?”

“Broken cup, nothin’ bad.”

Wade raised a brow. “You broke a cup?”

Banister hid his face in Frazier’s fur. “Yes,” he rasped.

Frazier eyed Wade, his warm smile cooling. “I’s no’ a big deal, righ’?” His voice was eerily calm.

Wade blinked. “It’s not,” he said slowly, cautiously. “I’m more worried about if you cut yourself cleaning it up, I could care less about the cup.”

“I didn’ get ta it,” Frazier said. Relief spread throughout him. He knew Wade wouldn’t be mad, but Banister had opened up plenty of old wounds with his behavior. He kept petting the back of Banister’s head. “Can ye get i’?”

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.” Wade looked them both over, frowning. “Do either of you need anything?”

“Some tea would be nice.”

_“Ugh, I ‘ate tea!”_

_“Too bad, we’re drinking it.”_

“For both of you?”

Frazier looked down at Banister. The smaller shrugged. “Yeah, a cup fer ‘im.”

Wade nodded. “Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.” He leaned down and kissed the side of Frazier’s head. “Morning, darlin’.”

Frazier huffed, though he couldn’t help but smile. “Mornin’.”

The mismatched eyes slid to Banister. There was a pause, then Wade leaning down to plant a soft peck on Banister’s head. “Morning, Banister.”

The rabbit peered up from Frazier’s shoulder with wide eyes. He stared.

Wade didn’t seem fazed by the expression as he straightened and walked to the kitchen. “Heads up, his purr can sound like a growl,” he warned. “If he does it, he’s not mad.”

Pink dusted the dark cheeks. “Watch yer feet!” Frazier yelled after him.

Wade spun around. He braced himself in the doorway and lifted his foot, showing off his wheels. “I’ve got this.”

“Glass c’n ge’ caugh’ in yer wheels.”

“That’s sweet you’re worried, but I’ll be fine.”

“I’m more worried when ye wan’ ta play footsies later.”

The mismatched eyes rolled. “You’re such a baby.” He swiveled back around and rolled into the kitchen. “It’ll be a minute.”

“Take yer time!” Frazier told him. He looked back down at Banister. “I’s alrigh’,” he murmured. Banister looked at him with muted eyes. “See, wha’d I say?”

The rabbit was still quivering.

“Ye didn’ do anythin’ wron’.” He ran his fingers through the light mauve fur. “No one’s mad at ye.”

The sweeping of the broom could be heard in the kitchen. Wade’s knees let out faint cracks and pops when he leaned to pick up the dustpan.

Frazier could tell Banister was exhausted. The rabbit’s muscles were loose and limp despite the faint shaking, his eyelids drooping and his ears twitching in an attempt to rise up from his back.

_“‘e’s ‘ad a long nigh’.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“So have ye.”_

Frazier adjusted himself just so. “I’ve go’ ye,” he said quietly at Banister’s posture stiffening. He cupped the back of Banister’s head. “I’m righ’ ‘ere.”

The rabbit melted into the hold with a tired sigh.

_“Let’s just not talk about it, okay?”_

_“Fine.”_ A pause. _“Ye know I’m ‘ere fer ye, even if I do bitch abou’ yer whinin’.”_

Banister’s eyes drifted shut. His breathing was already evening.

_“Ye’re goin’ ta make Wade drin’ tha’ tea, aren’ ye?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Had a feelin’ after watchin’ the li’le bunny doze.”_ A pause. _“I’m seein’ a patt’rn wit’ rabbi’s.”_

A chuckle crept from Frazier’s chest. Banister’s nose twitched at the rumble. _“I don’t have a problem with that.”_

_“Me neither.”_ He felt Foxy’s control rolling under his. _“’e feels so sof’. Jus’ a li’le bunny, ‘e is.”_

Banister rubbed his cheek against Frazier’s collarbone. “Papa…” he mumbled.

“Righ’ ‘ere, li’le bunny.” Frazier grazed his forehead with a kiss. “Righ’ ‘ere.”

Wade finally tore open a tea packet.


End file.
